


Boyfriend Quest - Abridged

by Ladiesofthrones



Series: Dave's Fanfiction - URealms Live [6]
Category: Buffalo Wizards RPF, URealms Live - Fandom
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, NSFW
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-07-16 06:26:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7256083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladiesofthrones/pseuds/Ladiesofthrones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>100% pure smut - multiple gay subplots.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stolen Moments

**Author's Note:**

> My interpretation of Dave's infamous book - Boyfriend Quest. This copy is "abridged" because it is the sex scenes only. An actual retelling of the Sunsword campaign would take me months to write if I wanted to do all the characters and descriptions justice, so here is just the smut. Maybe I'll do a proper retelling of a campaign someday <3
> 
> You can read stormoftara's version of the Sunswords Campaign right here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/7216009/chapters/16376101

It was blissfully warm underneath the groundbold furs. The command tent was at the edge of the forest clearing, the glistening golden Sunsword banner waving proudly from the flagpole in the bitter winds. All around, the soldiers and retainers of Gwyneth Sunsword made camp under the midnight sky. They were good men, all of them trusted and loyal. 

The most favoured of all, of course, was Kallark, currently under the furs with her, reading a scroll by the candle light. Bearded like a maiden's fantasy and strong as an oak, he was Gwyneth's second in command and lover. Boyfriend, she supposed. He caught her staring, and his sombre face crinkled into a loving smile. 

"I expect Virgo will give us a quest soon", Gwyneth informed him.   
She rarely called Virgo father. He was the fearsome commander of the Elven army, loved and feared by many (herself included). A man of his stature always demanded a certain level of formality. Especially in front of her men. 

"You're always thinking about work" he teased.   
Gwyneth gave him a withering look and rolled onto her side pointedly. She wasn't impressed. In retaliation, Kallark rested his hands on her buttocks, squeezing playfully.   
"Kal!" she protested, breathlessly.   
He chuckled, voice rough with desire. 

"You should relax more" he whispered.   
Gwyneth turned her head and fixed him with a hard stare. Under her gaze, Kallark seemed to soften, brown eyes like melted sugar cookies.   
"Just for one night, Gwyneth. Please."

She sighed. In her heart she held a softness for Kallark, her favourite. She shuffled back slightly, pressing her nude body against his crotch. He was already hardening, cherishing the contact of warm skin on such a cold night.   
"How do you want to do this? How can I make this perfect for you?" he asked, playing with a lose strand of her hair.   
Kallark had always been a little obsessed over her dark locks, the same way Gwyneth loved to feel the texture of his beard when they kissed. 

For one moment, she let herself completely relax into his touch. His scent of wood smoke was an unspeakable comfort. It was nice letting someone else take charge, if only for a second. 

The instant passed. She smirked, slipping into her commander role as easily as if she was putting on a tunic or garment.   
"I'm going to ride you, soldier." she told him assertively.   
He wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face in her neck to hide his laughter at her use of military terminology in such an intimate setting. She supposed it was a little ridiculous - but that didn't mean she would excuse insubordination.

Quick as a lightning bolt, Gwyneth rolled over and positioned herself on top of Kallark, pinning him down with her weight and capturing his arms above his head in her grip. She smiled at him slyly, sitting up in triumph. As their gazes met, she saw the twinkle in his eyes.  
"Yes ma'am" he responded. 

His hands were still trapped by her own strength, pushed against the headboard.   
"I could use some handcuffs" she mused thoughtfully.   
Kallark considered that, biting his lip.   
"So fucking hot" he said.   
He wriggled experimentally, trying to break her grip to no avail. 

"Next time." she promised.   
Kallark sat up, hands resting on her waist again. He had large hands, strong and safe. With a sword, they could inflict deadly damage. On her, they were as soft and gentle as a pot puppy. 

Raising her hips, she positioned herself over his crotch. He squeezed her slightly in anticipation. Slowly, she lowered herself onto him, gasping slightly as he entered her. He moaned, voice deep with desire. She sank right down to his hilt and rolled her hips as she did. Lifting up, supported by Kallark, she pushed herself down onto him again. 

As the candle burnt down to a wick, she bounced up and down on her boyfriend's cock. Her breathing grew more and more laboured as the pace quickened. Outside, her soldiers were likely sharpening their swords and training, weapons clashing. Squires were probably tending to the steeds. No doubt her scouts were racing back at that very moment, hurrying to deliver their news. Gwyneth wondered what they would say if they could see her, sweat on her brow as she fucked herself on Kal's dick. 

The thought only seemed to make her lust deepen. Letting her men see her like this was an impossibility, but maybe Xavius would be up for... Oh no. Thinking about Xavius while fucking Kallark would definitely lead to nothing but regret. She forced herself to focus on the sensation of being filled instead. She felt his cock, stiff and erect inside her, and moaned.

"Gwyneth I'm gonna-!" Kallark cried out.   
That was the only warning she got before he came. She slammed herself down a final time and reached a climax, throwing her head back in ecstasy. Carefully, she raised herself off and rolled to his side, utterly sated. 

As she revelled in the bliss, she became aware of Kallark talking.   
"See? Wasn't that so much better than work?" he teased.   
Gwyneth raised an eyebrow and rested a hand on his chest, idly tracing patterns flirtatiously.   
"I don't know. Maybe doing work would have lasted longer."  
He threw back his head and roared with laughter. Mirroring her actions from earlier, he climbed on top of her, fixing her to bed. 

"Another round, Commander?" he murmured in her ear, nibbling.   
Gwyneth wrapped her legs around his waist.   
"Proceed, soldier." she ordered.   
As he manoeuvred her into position, she muttered to herself darkly - something about damn dwelfs, with their stupid sexy beards and dizzying stamina. 

When they were finished for a second time, Gwyneth decided she had been gone long enough to raise suspicion. After all, elves never slept. They meditated.   
"Do me a favour?" Gwyneth asked, grabbing her tunic and armour.   
"Anything" he promised. 

She fetched her duskblade and scabbard before heading to the exit of the tent.   
"Don't tell Dave about this. I don't want anymore damn fanfiction."  
Kallark's eyes gleamed, full of mirth.   
"It's Dave, Gwyneth. As if he doesn't already know."


	2. Different Scarlet Letters (trust me - mine is better)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIP Dave 3

She tells herself it's just because she's upset. After her orders had been relayed by Virgo to transport the prisoners to the Silvermine Mountain, Gwyneth had decided the task was simple enough to assign half of her elves to another job. There were always disappearances to investigate, battles to organise, and artefacts to protect. 

Naturally, Kallark had disagreed. He had argued with her, insubordinate, that she was being careless. She had no way of foreseeing what dangers she might have to face. Although he was just being sensible, his disobedience coupled with his over-protectiveness made her snap. Her rebuke had been fearsome and spiteful, causing Kallark to storm from the camp like an upset child.

Even so, it's no excuse. She should seek out Kallark and apologise for their quarrel. Or, she should find Dave and tell him to do a weapon's check. Either way, she should be mature and productive and reasonable. 

She shouldn't follow Xavius into the forest. Alone. But she does. 

All it takes is a single smirk, a look dripping with a satisfaction so sharp it cut like a dagger, a smile that makes her certain he has heard about her recent quarrel, a promise of his superiority and unwillingness to ever argue with her, and she followed him wordlessly among the trees without so much as a second thought. It's pathetic; it's completely feckless. She doesn't care. 

The truth is, whenever it came to Xavius, Gwyneth was always aware it was a terrible idea. He was an idiot - handsome but moronic, wealthy but senseless. Even worse, he's was Barringster. His family had been scorned by her own for generations, despite political connections and various godfather roles. Gwyneth was a Sunsword and therefore she should have known better. Xavius was her worst scarlet letter. 

Although, in fairness, her relationship with Kallark wasn't viewed anymore kindly. 

As she brushed branches out of her way, she could not help but be reminded of a youth full of making mistakes like this one. Somehow, it was always when she was with Xavius that she ended up in the most compromising positions and lewdest locations. It was like she couldn't help herself whenever he was involved. His recklessness was utterly infectious. 

Suddenly, she stopped moving. They had reached a clearing. Everything, even the vibrant red colour of the leaves, was reminiscent of a similar encounter over a decade ago. She remembered Xavius fucking her hard beneath the open skies, and climaxing so hard she had almost blacked out. There was a sweet, phantom ache in her body just thinking about it. 

Stormy grey eyes met hers from across the clearing and the smirk returned in all its glory. She tried to glower, feigning displeasure at his boldness.  
"Do you remember-?" he asked, and Gwyneth knew he was recalling the same night.  
She tried not to blush as her mind conjured images of Xavius's stiff cock pistoning into her, sweat on his brow, her cries of lust mingling with the midnight birdsong into a symphony like no other. 

"No." she snapped.  
Mistake. In that moment, her lie was painfully obvious. His grin was blinding as he stepped forward and closed the distance between them. She backed up, caught off guard, into a thick tree trunk. She had just enough time to call Xavius the worst name she knew before he was pressing her back, leaning in for a kiss. 

She let him. Our'ras help her, she let him. 

He tasted like wild berries, fresh and saccharine. When he kissed, it was with a warrior's ferocity and a starving man's hunger. He wasn't like Kallark - serenading her with gentle caresses and sweet nothings. His rough jawline chaffed as he nuzzled against her, his tongue hot and demanding as it pressed into her mouth. Amorously, he bit down on her lip so hard she tasted blood. 

For a second, her smile was beatific. There was a part of her that missed being touched in that way, as if the world was ending and nothing mattered except Xavius and herself. He had a way of filling the sky, being the sun and the moon and the clouds. But Gwyneth had always realised he was all fire and therefore a really bad idea. Although he may be bright and captivating and flaming with passion, he was as destructive and consuming as any blaze. Enough time alone with him and she was reduced to ashes. 

She pushed him away hard, gasping for breath. Idly, she noted that she had not even known she was suffocating. Xavius was intoxicating; Xavius was poisonous. Unlike Kallark. The thought of her boyfriend, with his soft hands and loving eyes, sobered her. 

"Stop it, Xaxius. What we had, you and I... It was over a long time ago." she snarled.  
He froze, confidence stripped from him momentarily. A cold wind blew through the clearing and ruffled his thick auburn hair. The blood in Gwyneth's mouth was coppery and bitter. Finally, his grey-eyed gaze met her, a hurricane of conflict in his eyes. 

"Then why did you follow me?" he demanded.  
His words were triumphant. Gwyneth closed her eyes, trying to make everything disappear. She could not stand his satisfaction anymore than she could endure her own weakness.  
"I don't know" she whispered. 

Thankfully, he didn't move towards her. She didn't know what she would do if he touched her again. Far away, in the command tent, Kallark was probably worried about her disappearance. Her thoughts of him pierced her like an arrow. She didn't want to keep him waiting much longer. Quickly, she turned and began to enter the forest, heading back to her men, away from Xavius and her poor decisions. 

A moan echoed through the clearing, throaty and full of desire. It mixed with the breeze and the humming of insects to form an enthralling melody. Stunned, Gwyneth whirled around to locate the source of the noise. 

Xavius had removed his breeches. He made a heated picture, legs bare, head thrown back, one hand stroking his thick cock lazily. He was touching himself for all to see, pumping his hand back and forward in a leisurely rhythm. It was an enrapturing sight, member glistening with precum, head flushed and red. He was fully hard from only the slightest touch. The whole scene felt vaguely dreamlike. 

Nightmare, she corrected herself firmly. 

"Look what you do to me. I can't stop thinking about you, baby." he groaned.  
As he spoke, he quickened his pace, curling his fingers to gain more friction. Gwyneth could almost imagine how his cock would feel in her mouth, salty on her tongue. He pumped again.

Uncharacteristically, there was a blush on her cheeks. His words nearly lulled her into a stupor, eyes fixed on his hands as he teased himself. His cock was obscenely red, contrasting against the white of his slender and capable fingers.  
"I wish it was you doing this. Touching me. I'm imaging that it's you." he admitted. 

She bit her lip, gathering all the restraint she could muster and armouring herself in it. She had to keep control.  
"Fuck. I wish it was your hand."  
Slowly, she took a step back, forcing herself to leave.  
"Or your mouth..."

Her resolve was a shield around her, but she could feel her walls crumbling and crashing soundlessly. Gwyneth Sunsword was a woman of great discipline, but Xavius had always been a weakness. It would have been so much easier to say no, to forget the whole scene, if she had not once been in love with him. When you fall for someone, you give them part of your soul and they kept it forever. He knew that as well as she did. 

There was a part of her that wanted nothing more than to be with him under the canopy of golden leaves. The rest of her accepted that the time for loving Xavius had ended. The chapter had been finished years ago. This was only a ghost of a longing, a bittersweet memory of the connection they had once shared. Without another word, she continued on her way back to the camp. Back to Kal. 

"Fine. Go. I've won anyway."

She should carry on walking. She shouldn't listen. She should show him that he has no hold over her. However, his actions make her halt abruptly a final time.  
"What the fuck do you mean?" she responded. 

"Run back to Kallark. Have fun under the furs tonight. But it won't be him you'll be thinking about when he fucks you. We both know that."  
Perhaps once the emotion pumping through her veins at his words would have been lust. Instead, she felt only fury. She did not even bother to look at him when she replied. 

"I hope you and your hand are very happy together."

Gwyneth would have given anything for him to be wrong. But that night, when Kallark held her in his loving embrace, it was another elf she pictured. Xavius, half-naked in a clearing, alone, running his hand along his cock until he came, cum flying out, gasping her name. 

Xavius was her best scarlet letter. She should have known better.


	3. Touch Me (and you'll burn)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight dub con?  
> Vaguely hentai-ish (but not really).

Gwyneth was no stranger to time seeming to freeze in the midst of battle. Even when she was young and parrying in the training yard, there always seemed to be moments when the movements of her opponents would slow to a crawl and her mind would race. Instantly, she would ascertain the best way to block a strike or effortlessly disarm a target - before normalcy returned and she executed the planned move and defeating her opponent.

Even so, it had never lasted for longer than a split second or a blink of an eye before.

One moment, Gwyneth was in a dark canyon, twirling in a deadly dance with ape-like creatures known as ytts. All around her, her elven brethren battled for their lives, air singing with the song of swinging weapons and explosive spells. Even as she fought and summoned sun tiles, her attention was flying to other aspects of the battlefield. She watched in despair as Ian caught an arrow in his chest and went down. Her anguish mounted as Kallark was pinned by a boulder, but he swiftly enlarged to crush the rock. 

The next thing she knew, a ytt was barrelling towards her at an unprecedented speed. As it leaped at her, her blade arced in vain to try slice through flesh. A sensation akin to burning spread through her and everything became completely sluggish. In her peripheral vision, she became aware of Dave freezing mid swing. He seemed to be paused, paralysed - and he was not the only one. Not a single one of her soldiers was moving. Mercifully, neither were the ytts.

The battle adrenaline left her breathless and heightened her confusion. The febrile atmosphere set her teeth on edge - a tell-tale warning of magic in the air. Somehow, by some divine interference, the ytts and her soldiers were suspended in the middle of their battle. Theoretically, her fight was over. Gwyneth wasn't so convinced. She tightened the grip on the hilt as she raised her duskblade. 

Behind her, a lilting voice pierced through her uneasiness. It was sweeter than any music Gwyneth had ever heard and as free as the wind.  
"Put away your blade, daughter of the Light."

She turned. Before her, in the gloom of the eerily lifeless canyon, was some kind of apparition composed of mist and moon glow. She was made of cloud - pale, white, and unsubstantial. Even so, she was inordinately beautiful. 

She was so radiant, gazing at her directly was like looking at the Sun, so Gwyneth forced herself to focus on small details. Her skirt was a waterfall of vivid silk and finery, billowing around her like the wings of a dragon. Further upwards was a low-cut satin bodice, perfectly cut to emphasise the dip of her immense cleavage. A ruby choker twisted around the dark skin of her neck like a bloodsnake. Sparks twirled around her fingers, millions of tiny flickers, and filled the air with luminescence. 

Strangest of all, misty tendrils of cerulean, pink, and green radiated from her back. They swirled through the canyon, wiggling and grasping like the tentacles of a behemoth. Gwyneth was starkly reminded of a spell - Aurora Borealis. The stranger was a sky streaked with a thousand colours. 

"Do not fear. You are in no danger." she promised.   
Her voice was soothing, nurturing. Gwyneth was immediately suspicious. Anything beautiful could be a liar. Wasn't she herself living proof? 

"Swear to me that I shall come to no harm." she ordered calmly.  
Her dazed state was starting to fade as the splendour gradually became less blinding. Already, concern for her men was leaking into her every thought. Were they in danger?

"I won't hurt you. Not unless you beg me too."  
Her attention was snapped back to the stranger. With her wits regained, the question of the stranger's identity was of the utmost importance. Some great power was at play. Something larger than herself. Something she could never even possibly understand. The woman herself was pretty incomprehensible. Her image seemed to constantly shift and her features changed, as inconstant as mist, but always her appearance was beautiful and foreboding. Gwyneth could have easily stared at her for days, enraptured by her uncertain form. 

Focus. She forced herself to concentrate.   
"The ytts..."  
The pieces were starting to come together in her mind. Only one type of being alive had the power to perform a spell of such a huge magnitude - a amplified version of lascene. But that wasn't possible.   
"My children." answered Quintara Lotus, dragon aspect of all things arcane and chaotic. 

She should have been terrified, but she was strangely elated. She had always wanted to meet a dragon aspect. Always. Even if that dragon aspect had trapped her in a suspended reality - effectively alone and helpless.

"Why are you here?" Gwyneth blurted out, trying to mask her excitement.   
The moving tendrils caught her attention. They seemed to be stretching forwards, inching their way towards her.   
"Why does anyone do anything?" was the cryptic answer.

The answer was so unsettling, she lifted her weapon and adopted a battle stance.  
"Don't look so worried, Follower of Ouro'ras. I'll not make you battle some beast or conquer a maze. You have undoubtedly heard of my penchant for pretty things, be they male, female, porc or any other creature under the starry skies. That is something we share, is it not?"

She did not allow herself to blush, but the implication made her head feel hot.  
"Perhaps." she answered coyly.  
How her various conquests had caught the attention of a DRAGON ASPECT, she could not imagine. Last she checked, none of her boyfriends or girlfriends had ever climbed the Tower. Although, of all her affairs, Elmar was the most likely candidate to have told Quintara Lotus. 

"And I am the prettiest sight you have ever beheld, am I not?" she continued.   
Gwyneth did not answer. The truth was obvious. Quintara Lotus was the most beautiful thing in existence. It was a well known fact.  
"Well then. It seems my intentions are clear."

The tendrils were closer now.  
"I have a boyfriend." Gwyneth said.   
Quintara Lotus only smiled knowingly.  
"And have you been faithful? Loved only him? Whispered his name alone when you are in the midst of amorous haze?" 

Gwyneth gritted her teeth. No, she hadn't. Damn Xavius. No.   
"I thought not. But fear not, Sunsword. This is merely an illusion. A dream. Nothing done here will matter." she whispered.   
Even as an elf, Gwyneth was still mortal. The temptation of such power and awe was nearly impossible to ignore. 

Finally, she spoke. Just a single word.   
"Yes."  
And Quinatra Lotus laughed.

A tendril plunged into her back. Gwyneth kept waiting for the pain, but all she could feel was a heat surging through her body. It was pure bliss, sweeter than any wine she had ever consumed or any drug invented. Her heart pounded. Desire, so powerful it left her burning, flooded into her every cell. She threw her head back, dark hair tumbling down her shoulders. There was a sweet ache between her thighs - a pleasantly familiar wetness.

Gwyneth, still averting her eyes, spurred on by the sensations in her body, moved forwards towards the dragon aspect. Remarkably, she found herself still capable of intelligent thought, even though her lust was nearly overpowering. Quintara Lotus was certainly powerful enough to make Gwyneth a mindless thrall, if she wished. It seemed she valued her plaything much too greatly. It was flattering, in a way.

"Look at me." she demanded.   
Finally, agonisingly, she raised her gaze to meet Quinatara Lotus'. Gwyneth had always compared her own eyes to Summer. They could contain the heat of forest fires, the ferocity of storms and the desperation of drought. But always present, as constant as the sun, was a warmth. Compassion. Kindness. Mortality. The woman before her, the goddess bedecked in silk and finery, was devoid of her softness. If Gwyneth's eyes were a season, Quintara Lotus' were an entire galaxy - fathomless, infinite, and awe inspiring. 

"This is what divinity looks like."   
Gwyneth believed it; she worshipped it. Once she had closed the distance between them, she sank to her knees. To her delight, Quintara Lotus' gasped as a result. The gesture was oddly elven and utterly encouraging. Gently, reverently, she rested her hands on the thighs of the dragon aspect. 

Her mist-like skirts were cold beneath her fingers. Under her touch, they solidified to become a lace-like fabric. Gwyneth ran her hands all over it, revelling in the texture of the fabric and the way the woman towering over her quivered. She had the strength of mountains, but Gwyneth made her weak. Vaguely, she was aware of a second tendril wrapping loosely around her neck, caressing her hair. Gwyneth wanted to laugh in triumph.

She gathered the delicate skirts in her hands and lifted them up. Immediately, the tendrils moved to accommodate, pinning the fabric above the waist of Quintara Lotus. No underwear. What else was to be suspected of such a shameless seductress? From the outline of her erect nipples pushing against her corset, her breasts were free from undergarments as well. 

Gently, she traced her tongue along the inner thigh of the dragon aspect. Her skin was ice cold, but Gwyneth could see goose pimples forming where the hot breath from her mouth warmed her legs. Up close, Gwyneth could inhale an intoxicating perfume of honey and flowers radiating from her skin. Almost involuntarily, she inched closer, nuzzling against her and breathing in the heady fragrance. 

Once again, she made eye contact, biting down on her lower lip. She imagined she must be an obscene sight - on her knees ready to serve, lips already puffy, skin being ravaged by tentacles. She did not know if Quintara Lotus could feel lust, but some kind of pleasure was evident in her proud beam. Encouraged, Gwyneth began to move higher. 

Just before the meeting of her thighs, where the skin was the most soft and wonderfully sensitive, Gwyneth pressed a kiss. It was almost chaste - until she began to suck. She doubted very much a mere mortal such as herself could leave a mark on such perfection, but the woman seemed to enjoy her ministrations nevertheless. 

She nudged her legs further apart. It would have been much easier if Quintara Lotus had been sitting, but Gwyneth suspected she was the type of creature to think of only her own pleasure. She would not care about the difficulty Gwyneth experienced. It didn't matter too much. Gwyneth was talented enough in this particular art to carry on regardless (although admittedly, the roles were usually reversed). 

Her tongue skirted around her lower lips. She moved quickly at first, embarrassingly eager to please with the tendrils massaging at her neck and lulling her into a relaxed stupor. Forcing herself to concentrate, she halted to an almost leisurely pace. She supposed teasing a dragon aspect wasn't the smartest idea she had ever had, but her own growing arousal made her bold. 

The canyon was devoid of any noise except the wet sound of her mouth, and the muted groans and phrases of encouragement from Quintara Lotus. The tendrils began to quiver slightly. A third tendril brushed over her neck. It began to travel downwards, slipping under her armour and the fabric of her tunic. Lightly, it slid over her left breast. The cold sensation made her nipples peak.

As a thank you, Gwyneth finally plunged her tongue into her entrance. She moved out and then in back in again. Gwyneth had always prided herself on being good with her mouth. Whether it was delivering inspiring speeches or wrapping herself around Kallark's cock, she was nothing short of masterful with her lips. 

Of course, Quinatra Lotus had a whole different skillset. The tendrils were instruments of pure pleasure, unravelling her. She must look a complete mess - hair tangled, clothes dishevelled, tendrils teasing her mercilessly. 

A wicked thought occurred to her. As she continued to fuck Quintara Lotus with her tongue, she brought a hand to the other woman's clit. The combination of her touching and licking was doing wonders to the composure of the dragon aspect. At times, her form seemed to flicker like candle light. Her restraint was eroding. 

She was very close. It was evident from the tension in her legs and her moaning, which was loud and deceptively mortal. Just as Quintara Lotus was about to reach a climax, another tendril plunged into her back. The heat was absolutely incredible as it surged through her every atom. She threw her head back, wordless in her utter bliss. Pleasure pulsated through her. She was dimly aware of the dragon aspect's orgasm as she came herself, so hard she saw stars. 

The world seemed to spin. The tendrils became limp and lowered her carefully to the ground. Through her hazy vision, she was aware of Quintara Lotus smiling down at her. She was as flawless as ever, but Gwyneth thought her pupils seemed almost black, as if they had been darkened by her satisfaction and desire.

"I hope we meet again, daughter of the Light."  
She was too out of breath to respond. She had never been left so exhausted, so utterly sated, without even being touched by her partner. It was a celestial kind of bliss.

Quintara Lotus faded away with a burst of colour, a supernova. Gwyneth attempted to stand up on shaky legs, but failed. She wondered how long she had before time began once more and she would have to fight for her life. 

After a couple of minutes, normalcy resumed. And if Gwyneth seemed a little distracted, dishevelled, none of her men were any the wiser.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those wondering why this chapter exists  
> 1) This fic was woefully lacking in femslash  
> 2) I wanted Gwyneth to literally fuck a dragon  
> 3) A wizard did it.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! <3


End file.
